Lesbaneses
by Lumiere de Venise
Summary: Whether they're "Lebanese" or in lesbians, Brittany and Santana are all together and in...love. Or maybe not—Santana can't really tell. (Brittana. Yuri. M-rated for a little bit of "lemon/smut," and kinda drama-filled, but not really.)


**[AN:] **I watched Glee in the beginning years of this almost ending (Can you readers _believe_ it'll be the 2020's in less than three weeks?) decades but never finished it...after reading some Brittney and Santana fics two or three days ago, an idea to make a drabble came up, but as you can guess by the length of this story, it ended up being a tad too long to be considered a drabble. Lol. This was actually supposed to be uploaded the day it was made aka two days ago but due to this being written longer than expected, it wasn't able to be finished and fixed up until today.

I'm surprised that I didn't really care for this ship when I used to regularly watch Glee, but now I see the beauty of it. Hope you guys enjoy and, if anyone is out of character and stuff is not fit with the canon, forgive me as I haven't sat down to watch Glee in a long time.

**[Title:] **Lesbaneses

**[Author:] **Lumiere de Venise

**[Fandom:]** Glee

**[Word Count:] **2,167 Words/4.8 Pages.

**[Rating:]** M (Some parts are a little lemony…)

**[Pairing:] **Brittana (BrittanyxSantana.)

**[Summary:] **Whether they're in Lesbanese or in lesb_ians, _Brittnay and Santana are all together and in...love. Some small bits of their romance is filled with comedy, and other parts are filled with full on list, and some are filled with anger or sadness or both, but no matter what, the inevitable drawing they have towards one another stay together—in other words, their love is in every single state of being with one another. (Snippets, and while some of them kinda have an order to them, not _all_ of them have a specific order, despite the roman numerals. BrittanyxSantana. Bits of lemon here and there. W/W, yuri, lesbians, homosexuality, whatever term you wanna call it, that is it. Made in the course of a single day aka the day it was uploaded.)

**[Disclaimers:] **I don't own Glee, nor am I or will I ever profit from this fanwork.

**(7/14/20: RIP Naya Rivera.)**

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**i.**

"Lebanese."

"Lesbian."

"...Lebanese."

"No, it's lesb_ian_."

"That's what I wrote, Santana—we are both lebaneses."

Santana rolls her eyes and stops playing around with some of the blonde locks of the other female, instead choosing to pick up the small piece of notebook paper between the two of them.

"Brittany, what you're writing, the _'nese'_...you're supposed to be putting down an _'ian'_.

The blonde cheerleader gently takes the paper back and draws little hearts around the many scribbles of the word 'lebanese.'

Santana finds it half-retarded, half-cute.

"It's lesbians when you say it, but lebanese when you write it, Santana," Brittany claims once again as she uses a yellow color pencil to draw a sun in the right corner of the notebook paper.

Santana gets up from her seat in Brittany's kitchen and grabs a blue color pencil that was on the kitchen table. The black-haired teen flips the pencil up a few times.

"Except that Lebanese itself refers to someone from the country Lebron. Besides, this isn't really being 'in lesbians' if we're only doing it when boys aren't available, remember?"

Brittany cocks her head a tad to her left, the pure state of bewilderment on her face, and asks her in that soft-spoken tone of hers, "True, though, still...I'm sure that there must be a 's' between the e and b that I forgot to put in with how _I _spelt it, right?"

Santana rolls her eyes once more, and she also gives out a snort. Brittany _never_ fails to amaze her.

"You're lucky I am a little bit into you pleasure-wise, sometimes, Brittany."

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**ii.**

Santana is staring at the inside of her lockers—well, she's not really gazing at her notebooks and pictures of herself, she's just pretending to because Artie is talking to Brittany _literally_ inches away from her, and Artie is making Brittany laugh and giggle and blush and shine those bright blue orbs of hers at him.

Yeah, the two girls are not actually lovey-dovey with one another, it's mostly just when Santana is bored and she needs something, _something _to fill that kinda-growing-void in what little of a heart (it's still there, though, even if it probably grows like the heart of the Grinch's) Santana has, but it still_—kinda—_stings.

It doesn't make sense for Santana to be mad at a relationship that her friend-with-occasional-benefits has, though, so Santana slams her locker and walks away, and she totally, totally totally _totally _doesn't look back at the cripple and Brittany talking and glare at said cripple.

No, she's not jealous.

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**iii.**

A Hispanic girl bites down on the soft neck of a pretty blonde girl, and it just so happens that such a thing is happening hours after the pretty blonde girl was talking with a brunet who is crippled.

Brittany tries to speak, but Santana does her magic and dips her fingers down south and then Santana decides to move her mouth unto the mouth of the blue-eyed blonde, and thus the only sound made is their moans—more on Brittany's—and the pop song playing on the speakers in Brittany's room.

(To clarify, Santana was not jealous per say but, in actuality, just making sure that Brittany remembers that girl on girl action has a few..._benefits _that boy on girl action can't provide the same way.)

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**iv.**

Santana is pretty sure she's listening to an angel. When Brittany opens her mouth and lets out tones of beauty, it is something unique, something magical—something that manages to be even more tranquil than the blonde man already soft-tone of voice.

There is no audience around, sans a surprisingly quiet Santana. There are no applause, nor light that shines on the beautiful essence of purity that is Pierce, but the blonde's lively expression and almost glowing pale skin is enough to have her shine as she sings on top of the bench she's standing on.

…

Santana leaves the locker room before Brittany can notice her staring, the ebony-haired cheerleader hearing only the fading sound of the voice she believes to of come from the Heavens itself.

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**v.**

She has a hunger inside of her, and a thirst as well, and the only way she can fill her stomach and quench her thirst is the way that only someone who is in a friends with benefits _who happens to be someone of the same gender _(these days, she wants to call it full on lesbian sex and that _terrifies_ her) relationship could think of, which is to, well...

"That, like….f-feels _really _good, Santana…"

A pale hand grips Santana's hair. Santana continues dwelling her tongue into the beloved paradise she can't help but engulf herself in, and she grips the bed sheets below the two of them.

It only takes a few more seconds before a voice screams another's name, and as sweet juices slowly spill out and a tongue gives one last lick to the folds around it, a head moves upwards.

"I told you before and I'll tell you again," Santana says as she continues to observe the much beloved meal in front of her, as gluttony has consumed the Hispanic teenager as always, "I can eat you up in a way no guy can, and only you can quench this _totally just straight female friends with benefits _thirst inside of me."

Brittany exhales loudly and holds unto her skirt tightly.

"Us doing this constantly doesn't count as being...full on lebanese with one another, right?"

Santana nods before mentally—and then physically—rolling her eyes.

"Yes, that is the benefits of friends with kinda benefits even though we're kinda in lesb_ians _with one another."

"That's, like, what I said...we're in—"

Santana digs in for dessert before Brittany finishes her sentence.

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**vi.**

"Marco."

"Marco."

"No, Brittany, you're supposed to say Polo."

"I know, but, like, I want you to say Polo now. Or, maybe, we can think of a new word. Like dolo. Or cono."

Santana guffaws. "Are you sure you want to use _cono?_"

"Yeah, why not? Isn't that, like, another word for cone?"

Santana, who was facing the other way in the pool they were in, turns around and shakes her head.

"Perhaps you should just use dolo," the Hispanic of the two girls says as she splashes some of the water she was residing in at Brittany.

Brittany throws water back.

Santana responds by jumping into Brittany, though she quickly removes herself, clears her throat, and swims a little bit away from the blonde when Santana remembers that it's a public pool, and there are children and parents around, and what they're doing isn't something exactly what some parents would consider to be appropriate around children.

(They're not lesbians though, so why should Santana care? Santana should just be not giving a single shit. Or fuck. _Literally._)

Santana goes right at the left ear of Brittany and whispers to her, _"Since we're not...that, we gotta make sure our interactions with one another don't end up too questionable in public, alright?'_

Brittany frowns. _"I think we aren't that. We're just...you know, right?"_

For a second, Santana is puzzled. They're not _that, _but they can't just be friends who kinda are with benefits with how long they've been doing this, especially with how many rebound boys at their school these days are rather available.

Then, as always, Santana reminds herself that it started off as benefits, so it'll end when high-school ends for the two teenagers, and the situation will never be talked about or acknowledged again.

Yep, Santana will be with a fine man with two kids, and she can see Brittany with a man as sweetly weird as the blonde, and Santana is pretty sure Brittany and Brittany's husband will then go on to have four or five children, all blue-eyed and kooky and whatnot.

"Exactly—we aren't like _those _types of girls. We're just benefiting for the moment, and there's no shame in just needing to have some lady fucks when a guy's all bark and no bite in make-out sessions or sex."

Brittany's lips turn downward for a second before she stumbles a little out, "Y-Yeah. We should, like...go on a double date with our boyfriends soon."

Santana wraps her arm around Brittany's back, her fingers toying with the let down locks of the other teen, and tried keeps her gaze at the ceiling and not at the blonde's alluring blue swimsuit.

"It'll be fun. We need a break from having a 'break' from boys," Santana says as looks back down and catches a child staring at them—in an instant, Santana removes her arm around Brittany and moves a few inches away from her.

"Possibly a...permanent one, Santana."

"Yeah."

Two girls half-lie and half-tell the truth to themselves and each other.

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**vii.**

"I love you. I think."

In the more secluded parts of a park because she wouldn't _dare_ to have such a conversation in her bedroom or any part of her house while her grandma is still around, Santana sits on a bench, her mind focusing on only one thing.

"I know, I know what you're thinking—_is it real? _To be truthful, I don't know myself. I mean, we have to think about the facts, Brittany…"

Santana looks down at her denim jeans before continuing.

"I'm sorta heartless, a pushover, and a bitch_—like, grinch levels of being a bitch—_but...well, remember how I told you that I can do stuff to you in seconds that a man couldn't even get _close_ to attempting to do in minutes? Well, you have the same affect on me, but not just on a scissoring level."

Santana gulps before exhaling out a shaky breath. This isn't like her to be filled with a rush of anxiety, but then again, it isn't like her to be filled with a rush of dire for _another girl._

However, maybe it…_is _like her? Maybe this whole stumbling as if she has—no, she _does _have—butterflies in her stomach shows that this is the true her, who has been pushed away due to cowardice, homophobia, and self-denial?

Santana can't tell, but one clue she (thinks) she has was that time period where she was scissoring Brittany nonstop to the point where they would limp to both the Glee club and cheerleading practice—and wow_ Santana is just realizing how provocative her mind gets when thinking about Brittany lately—_yet the two still kept engaging with one another intimately which, in actuality, might've been a clue that there was _some—_no, a _lot _of attraction to the same gender in both of them.

…._Right?_

"When we talk together, laugh together, hang out together, _live _together...I actually feel less of a terrible person. This is something that no one else I've been with has made me feel. I know I haven't been showing that enough to you, but I want to change it up. Hopefully, you think the same, and then maybe my bitchiness will actually be toned down and you'll know how to spell lesbians and everything will make _sense._"

Another pause from the Hispanic girl, and then she continues for the last time.

"Maybe we'll be able to be...you know. Lesb_ians. _Leban_eses_. I don't know and I don't care how long it takes, as long as I can be with you. I mean that."

Having finished what she had to say, Santana looks down at her phone, where presented on the screen are a set of undialed numbers on the keypad; the teenager sighs and rubs at the creases on her forehead.

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**viii.**

"Are we dating, or what?"

_A pause._

"Wait, isn't this a date? Aren't you paying? 'Cause I ordered shrimp."

"Wasn't last week_—you know, when we were taking a bath together—_wasn't that...a date?"

_A nod._

"Are you...crying?"

"It's just that...I'm _really_ happy."

"Well, I told you last year that if _I'm_ single and _you're_ single, that we'd mingle."

"And if there's any controversy that interferes with my presidential campaign, then I'll use one of my leprechaun wishes to win the election."

...

Two girls tell the truth to each other, one smirking deviously and the other wondering whether or not she should get even more leprechauns.

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**ix.**

"Hey, Santana…"

Said Hispanic in question stops poking her fork at the small piece of strawberry cake in front of her. "What's wrong, Brittany?"

"Do you think, one day, being a….les…_bian_...will be accepted better?"

Santana looks at the ring on her finger, nods, and then gets up from her seat to sit next to Brittany, who was across from her. She blows air into Brittany's neck and mentally—and _physically_—laughs as Brittany flashes her adorable trademark smile.

"Anything is possible—I mean, my abuela came to the wedding, despite not agreeing with two girls being in love. It's not..._ideal,_ but it's not a bad start."

There are children that stare and parents that shake their heads, but Santana just continues to hold unto Brittany's shoulders, and then the Hispanic girl continues on, _"By the way…"_

Santana gives Brittany a quick kiss on the lips, and then twirls around some of Brittany's ponytail-held tresses.

"You were right, Brittany, back then—it's leban_ese, _and you're the best lebanese partner out there."

**[END.]**

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**[Ending AN:]** I know Brittany _writes _lebanese but says lesbian properly, but I kinda had it be both at times to make it a tad funnier. Hope you guys don't mind that. I feel like I wrote these two so out of character, and if I did, I am very sorry; if I do any future fanfics on these two, I hope I will write them better. Well, until next time..._Ciao!_


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